Mayhem
by Saito-Soul
Summary: A grotesque tale of one man and his strive to stay alive and deliver revenge to those who wronged him in the past, all while being pursued by both an experienced detective and a supernatural angel.  My own story.
1. Prologue

There exists in this world but two kinds of beings; those of flesh and bone, the living, and those of spiritual manifestation, the angels. Without the clearly insignificant existence of the living ones, the angels would not be of form, depending on the death of a living being in order for an angel to be born. Due to this fact, special angels are designated, called Guides. Guides, as their name implies, guide disembodied spirits of the living to Prophet, an ancient machine known to have given birth to all angels since the beginning of time. With the sacrifice of a living spirit, an angel is born in the name of the Guide, forcing them to resign their position to properly care for the child, only to quickly be replaced by another qualified angel. In all of time, only one Guide has ever failed that mission, and this is the story of that angel and the chaos they proceeded to bring about upon the world..

---

"I never loved you, all you were to me was something that I could use for sex. So forget me and die already." Showing absolutely no sign of fear or remorse, pity or sympathy, the man squeezed his finger, effectively pulling the trigger back of the common black-cast handgun he was holding. All that came after that was a loud gunshot, ringing through the ears of the murderer, and the blunt thud of a lifeless body a second afterwards. The woman had fallen backwards, blood dripping down her face and mixing with the tears that she had been crying when she had still been alive, testifying her absolute and undoubted love for the man who stood before her holding a gun. The blood began to run on to the hardwood floor under the body, almost as if an endless red river had began to run out of the hole in the woman's forehead. Shortly after the floor began to cover with the thick blood of a human's head, a relieving sigh came from the man. He slipped the handgun in his pants and stepped into a carpeted room a few feet away, plopping down somehow casually, a delightful yet tasteless smile on his face. "I should've said something a bit more flashy...not just lie to her face and then kill her blatantly," he scolded himself. "But I guess it can't be helped, she's dead now anyways," he continued, "I guess I should get out of here before one of them gets here." What was surprising was that the man wasn't as concerned about the police as he was about these other people he was talking about, walking out of the apartment building and waving to a passing police car as he stood around the corner, waiting for a sign of their arrival.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment a small girl who seemed to be otherworldly approached the now cold and and pale-faced body of the woman. The girl plunged her hand into the woman's skull, physically passing through it and pulling out an otherworldly looking doppelganger of the dead woman, propping her up. Her eyes were completely blank; nothing on her mind because nothing could be on her mind. Almost as suddenly as the girl had appeared, she disappeared with the woman. Back out on the street, the man's eyes suddenly widened as an image of the woman he had just killed appeared in his mind. "Welcome home, darling" was what she said, over and over as she slowly faded away. The man smiled tastelessly again, turning around and bounding up the stairs back into the apartment. He closed the door softly, slowly approaching the area that dead body and pool of blood had been when he had left, and let out a single, maniacle laugh. The body of his wife Sahime, whom he had just murdered, was no longer there, and neither was the blood. "I am Kaosu...the hand of God!" he blurted out, drawing out and pointing his gun at the ceiling. There were three words amateurly etched into the side of the gun that were visible clearly at a certain angle. It said simply, 'Angels aren't perfect.'


	2. Chapter One

Immortal. Kaosu could not die. He was immortal. He kept his hand pressed to his gun through his shirt the whole time he was walking down the sidewalk, ducking into a small, cutely furnished home in a sub-urban area. It looked like no one had lived there for weeks, maybe even months. There was spoiled and rotten foods inside of the outdated refrigerator, the man gagging dramatically in disgust when he opened the door expectant of something to eat. He closed the door back quickly, covering his mouth and nose until the smell was no longer there. It seemed that everything and anything in the house was spoiled and moldy in some way, shape, or form. Disappointed, he laid down slowly on a futon, grabbing a picture frame that was sitting beside him with a quick snatch. It depicted what seemed to be the man standing and smiling in casual clothing, a woman with long blond hair laughing beside him. He must've made her laugh right before the photographer had taken the picture, so she had wanted to take another, but he framed it and kept it as a memento anyway. "None of us are perfect," Kaosu muttered in a way that seemed like he was trying to scare himself. He placed the picture frame on the floor, rose from the futon, and crushed the whole thing with one level-headed stomp. There was no anger, jealousy, or sorrow that could be seen. He simply crushed it because he had to.

He took a coat from the few hanging on the coat rack near the door, slipped it on, and headed out. Before he was able to leave, a young man stood in the doorway, a look of surprise on his face. It wasn't a look of surprise that someone showed when they had won something; it was the surprise shown when someone sees a plane crash on the news or a killer pop out of the corner in a new horror movie. "K-Kaosu!" The boy shook, taking a few steps back before recovering his normal state of mind. "Kaosu..it's been two months since.." He hesitated, still intimidated by the mere presence of the man, who showed the boy a cold and uncaring look. "Two months since you died." Then the boy turned. He turned around, and ran for his life. He ran as fast as he could. It was two bad that his fastest was not faster than a bullet. A bang sounded, and before the boy had even reached the corner, he was lying face first on the sidewalk, painted it a new crimson.

The man quietly walked up to the young man, who was shaking in pain, and kicked his body over, his face still in that same state as when he had first seen Kaosu. Then, his mouth shifted open, and his eye closed, tears running down his face as he strained to use the last of his being to call out and possibly have someone call to have this walking specter captured and sentenced to what should have happened to him. But when the boy opened his mouth, the man smiled his ever so familiar smile. With delightfulness and tastelessness, he shot the young man through his mouth and into the back of his head. Bang. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body stopped shaking. Kaosu put his gun in his pants again and rounded the corner, leaving the door to the house he had apparently ransacked wide open. "I never will. This man is immortal," he stated to the dead boy as the body disappeared out of sight.

The crimson sidewalk returned to its normal gray stone color. The body of the boy that confronted the man at the entrance to the house had disappeared. The door to the house the man had ransacked was closed and locked, the curtains closed. On each and every window, as well as the door, was a yellow sticky note. 'Angels aren't perfect.'


	3. Chapter Two

The office door swung open violently with more urgency than anger. A man dressed in a navy blue suit trotted in quickly with heavy footsteps, his nostrils flaring. At the desk of the office sat another man; this one seemed by far more calm then the one who had just made his grand entrance into his office. He seemed relaxed but not quite, sitting back soundlessly in his revolving black leather chair, a half smile on his face but drumming his fingers on either of his thighs. The entering man slammed a manilla folder in front of the man on the desk, the man showing almost no initial reaction except a general slowing of the drumming he was doing on his thighs. "I think that you already know," the intruder stated, exiting the office as dramatically as he had entered, slamming the door in such a way that it seemed it was not intentional, though it obviously was by the way he had pulled the outside handle as he had walked away. The man sat up in his chair, running a peticured hand through his straight, jet-black, shoulder-length hair in such a way it seemed as if he was suddenly stressed. There was no reason that he shouldn't be. The case of this man Kaosu had been open and close contantly since the first time it had ended up on his desk two full months ago.

He didn't quiet understand. The man died. He died with over twenty witnesses to testify first-hand, as well as two of those witnesses being family members and another his best friend. It made absolutely no sense how after a whole two months of being dead, or what his partner on the case called "conspiritively inactive", a witness in the newlywed widow's apartment building reported seeing him walking up and down the stairs to her apartment, as well as hearing gunshots after the first time he had gone up. An investigative team was sent to the apartment and found absolutely no evidence of any murder; all the fingerprints around the whole apartment were solely the woman's, and there was no body to be found. However, after a few days, the woman didn't show up anywhere at all, and she was labeled missing, possibly a victim of murder. The only lead was the witness at the apartment building, so a dead man was labeled a suspect to a murder carried out two months after his own death, without any evidence at all.

The only thing he was able to do was connect the recent murder of the woman to a small string of murders that happened in the past month, three deaths concerning women about the same age as her, and another small string of four murders that involved the same age group of women with similar facial features and characteristics the months before that. All of these murders also went unsolved, with a similar crimescene; no body and no fingerprints or anything else found around besides the woman's. The problem was that there were no witnesses at those murders, so there were absolutely no leads.

No leads. No suspects; well, a dead suspect. Might as well call it a cold case. Detective Samein almost did. Before his telephone rang. He blinked once, letting it ring again before picking it up. What surprised him was that the call didn't go to the secretary, it went directly to him. "You know, Detective, angels aren't perfect. They can do things wrong too. Like accidentally let a man that was supposed to die walk this place even longer. Immortal. Because angels aren't perfect." The Detective hung up the phone slowly. Instead of fear or confusion, all that he expressed was sheer determination. This was his case. A dead man alive because 'angels aren't perfect.'


	4. Chapter Three

Hunger. Kaosu's stomach growled intensely, as a reminder of his ever so slight mortality. He couldn't stop anywhere to eat, because he had a certain paranoia concerning getting caught not only by those "angels," but now by the police also. Despite the head-turning sound of his stomach, Kaosu's face seemed as emotionless as ever, passing by the fruit stands without even so much as a quiver or a glance. Even though such items were so cheap in this part of town, he had no money in his pocket; he hadn't considered such an unfortunate circumstance while being immortal. He soon reached an alleyway, and it was there that his stomach let out the loudest growl yet, finally getting to Kaosu's head. He punched his stomach, his eyes widening in pain at his own strength. Holding himself, Kaosu slowly came to the ground and closed his eyes.

---

After falling asleep in the alleyway to get away from the pain of hunger for a few hours, Kaosu opened his eyes with a low groan, one of the first actual sounds he had made since he had left his former apartment. He could feel his stomach churning again, but he disregarded this. He was sitting belly down, staring out of the alley with wider eyes than when he had knocked himself out; however, in his eyes this time, you could feel pure unfueled rage. He could clearly see his college roomate across the street, exiting a regular diner with his girlfriend and rounding a near corner.

His thin lips widening into a sinister smile, Kaosu quickly gathered himself, getting to his feet and casually exiting the alleyway. His stride quickened with the first step on the smoothly paved asphalt, and it slowed back down when he rounded the corner. He came to a complete stop, ten feet away from the couple, who were making out on the sidewalk of a pretty much deserted street.

Kaosu stared at them with lustful eyes, and his stomach growled once more. At this sound, Kaosu's old roomate, Cinan, opened one eye and then disconnected lips with his lover. "Kaosu, what's up? Last I heard, you got into some scuffle with a few guys and got hurt pretty bad," he smiled, "so, how are you holding up?" He kept his arm around his girlfriend, and she smiled bashfully at Kaosu, who showed no facial responses. Before she could reply with a pout, Kaosu whipped out his firearm. Cinan staggered backwards a few steps, hurriedly followed by his girl. "Why do you have something like that?!" He asked, a slight shakiness in his voice. "Put that thing away, or you could get in big trouble, man."

Without any hesitation, Kaosu placed his finger on the cold trigger and stepped forward, pressing it right on his friend's forehead. His eyes glared with killing intent, but before he could pull back his finger, a shining arm shot out from apparently nowhere and hit Kaosu's gun out of his hand. The light was so bright that all three of them had to shield their faces, Cinan's girlfriend even falling back. "Kaosu Tarenta. Immortal? I think that it is time to remind you of your mortality, fool." A large brightness shined in front of Kaosu, so bright that he could no longer see his surroundings. Everything seemed white. Or maybe it was white. So white that the light didn't even seem like it was shining anymore. In fact, the light had changed. Standing in front of Kaosu was himself.


End file.
